


Photographs

by charlotte123456789



Series: Harry Potter One-Shots [55]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Army, Dark Character, Dark!Colin, Ministry, Mischiefs, Photography, Plotting, Prejudice Against Muggle-borns, Pure-Blood, Revolution, Spying, Violence, coup, planning, revolts, smart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29766288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlotte123456789/pseuds/charlotte123456789
Summary: He had been in the clear. Because who ever suspects the Gryffindor?
Series: Harry Potter One-Shots [55]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2157993
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Photographs

Colin stared at the photos he had taped to the wall. His years of photography meant he was spoilt for choice when deciding which ones were best to use.

All of them had been carefully grouped, perfectly set up. The golden trio together, then branching off of that, the Weasleys and Grangers along with the outer circle of friends and continuing to spread from there. He knew all of their connections, all of their friends and foes.

On the opposite side of the wall, he had  _ Voldemort _ . Getting a picture of him had been difficult but not impossible for someone as talented as himself. Then he’d done the exact same as with  _ Harry _ . Perfecting the groups surrounding him; the inner circle, the outer circle, lowley thugs, family ties.

Nearly all of the wizarding world was connected through some person of another. After all, that’s what they say, isn’t it?  **_Six degrees of separation_ ** . No more than six individuals needed to link two strangers who may never even know one another in life.

Colin knew it all. Who knew who, and more importantly as he had been learning — who knew  _ what. _

It had taken years of planning for this to happen. Years of watching and waiting.

He had taken to photography right from the start before he had even boarded the train; he knew it would be an easy way to start collating information.

But then there had been the sorting. And that had been a pure stroke of luck. He had never had a plan seeing as he had no foolproof way of being able to fool the Hat.  _ Except, _ he had forgotten just how adept he was at playing to his strengths. 

Of course, he truly belonged in Slytherin. He had the cunning and the ambition to pull this off. But what the Hat needed to see was his  _ bravery _ and  _ courage _ , and he had that in  _ bounds. _

No mere human would ever dare to do what he was attempting, unless they truly had enough courage and not enough sanity.

And it had worked; the Hat hadn’t cared to look too deeply at some random  _ Muggle-born _ boy. No, it had glossed straight over him and his long-term plans and shouted Gryffindor loudly for all to hear.

He had been in the clear. Because who ever suspects the Gryffindor?

He had used the years for good. The photography had been just as useful as he had imagined; after a little while, everybody got used to  _ little Colin _ always wandering around with a camera; they no longer questioned what it could be used to capture.

Then had come a revelation in second-year Transfiguration. He had been using a wizarding camera all the previous year and none had complained. With a little nifty magic and a lot of tries, his Muggle video camera now looked entirely like the wizarding one, but it had the useful record function. Information gathering became a lot easier; instead of having to remember everything, he could simply playback the recording. His notes had become a  _ lot _ more detailed after that.

Then he had hidden in plain sight for  _ years.  _ He made friends, he fought with Slytherins, he made a mockery of himself over Wizarding items that any  _ Pure-blood  _ would know.

He had patience to see his plot pay off.

He had begun planning as soon as his  _ real _ father had spoken to him when he was eight. He had been  _ lied _ to all his life. His mother had had an affair, his father was a disgraced Wizard, kicked out of the Wizarding world for being a  _ Muggle-born, _ yet unable to integrate back into normal society after so long apart.

His father had told him all about the prejudices, the hate, the crime. Everything that was allowed to happen to persecute anybody and anything that wasn’t a  _ Pure-blood Wizard.  _ His father spared nothing. 

And after all the truths were spoken, they had  _ planned _ .

But now, days, weeks, months and years of planning were finally coming to fruition. 

No longer would  _ Muggle-borns _ quiver in the shadows as they feared for their lives against Voldemort. No longer would they be used as cannon fodder by the  _ ‘light’  _ side that claimed to love them so much. No longer would they be the ones to take the blame for  _ everything _ going wrong as they were shoved into minor positions that would never amount to anything.

No more.

For Colin hadn’t just been spying and gathering intelligence all these years. He had been building an army.

Turns out that after eleven year olds are promised a bright future of magic and opportunities, only to realise that they had been completely lied to, which inevitably made them  _ quite _ disenchanted with Wizarding Britain.

The pretty lie to lure you in,  _ ‘magic, potions, spells, a bright future full of options’, _ actually only applied if you were a  _ Pure-blood.  _ For everyone else, it meant a dead-end job in a menial position that paid next to nothing with no future prospects and no chance of going back to live in the Muggle world as you had no actual qualifications which were recognised anywhere.

All those  _ Muggle-borns, _ who were once that innocent, unsuspecting eleven year old, were now angry adults who had had that rage building for years. And they wanted in on his plan.

That was the best part of his plan though. Because, without the  _ Pure-bloods _ hating them so much, this never would have happened; because what  _ most Pure-bloods _ seemed to ignore was that they made up a very,  _ very _ tiny percentage of the population.

If Pure-bloods had hundreds for their army, then Colin could easily say that he had  _ thousands _ in his.

They had wanted a war. And now they were getting one. Just not what either side had originally agreed on.

And it was all happening right now.

He stared at the pictures of the Death Eaters, who all held positions of prominence at the Ministry, that were taped on one side — they would be dead within the next five minutes.

At one o’clock, the hundreds of low-level  _ Mudbloods _ would revolt and seize control of the Ministry. They would shut down all access to the outside, leaving both sides thinking that the other had now gained control.

Then whilst both sides would reconvene to plan and try to gain any information from the little their spies could find, they would strike once more.

_ Malfoy Manor;  _ such a regal person as the  _ Dark Lord _ couldn’t be expected to slum it in squalor whilst in hiding.

He had planned for difficulties in breaching the wards but yet again, he had underestimated the  _ Pure-bloods  _ beliefs that they were better than everyone else around them. For who tested the end product of the wards but the homeowners  _ themselves _ ? If  _ they _ couldn’t break them down, then  _ surely _ no one else could. The wards certainly weren’t anything to scoff at and the defences were exemplary. But he had thousands in his army who could all combine their spells and make that ward look paltry in comparison to the energy they had.

He had commanded three hundred to attack the manor and had sent out other such teams to other notable  _ Pure-blood _ manors to tear them all down at once.

Not one of them would be standing by two o’clock.

Then taking a leaf out of the ministry playbook, the take over of Hogwarts would occur. With an extra-added bonus that he had stumbled upon in an ancient textbook when perusing the library.

It was well known that the teachers all swore a vow to teach and aid the students as part of their employment. A slightly  _ lesser _ known fact was that teachers could not  _ permanently _ harm students. Spells or otherwise. To do so, would break their vow and would result in them forfeiting their magic.

With that knowledge in mind, a coup had been easy to plan when he knew that there was never going to be any real defense against him.

At three o’clock in perfect synchrony with the manor attacks, he would shoot the first spell at Dumbledore and his army that remained at school with him would rise up with him.

Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins —  _ Muggle-borns  _ were everywhere.

It would be brutal, quick and efficient.

Colin smiled at his wall of photos as his eyes drifted over to the great  _ Harry Potter. _

A  _ Half-blood,  _ dutiful and fighting for a good cause but slightly too  _ light  _ and  _ justice-driven _ for his tastes in which direction Wizarding Britain would go.

Pity for Harry that he would be a sad expense for the cost of the revolution along with his devoted friend Ronald Weasley.

_ Officially, _ they would die fighting the  _ Pure-bloods  _ on Voldemort’s side in the middle of the Forest of Dean as the brave sole survivor of the attack, Hermione Granger, would tell the authorities.

_ Unofficially,  _ Hermione would slit their throats as they slept and leave them there.

Because what everyone forgets is that Hermione was the original  _ Muggle-born _ in their group, who knew exactly what Wizarding Britain thought of her. Just because she may be able to elevate herself slightly better than others in her position, it didn’t mean that she could ignore the irrefutable truths of their universal existence.

Colin would coordinate and do what had to be done at Hogwarts, his army would rise against the  _ Pure-bloods _ at the Ministry and the Death Eaters hiding away in their homes, and Hermione would take out the last remaining people who could stand against their agenda.

He stared at the wall. Eyes unblinking, taking in all the faces who would soon be nothing more than a memory  _ and _ an example.

By three o’clock, Wizarding Britain would be under his control.

And he had  _ plans. _


End file.
